


Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby

by ButcherKnives



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: And I'm very excited about it, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-DMC 5, Promise there's a plot here, Rating May Change, Smut tags specifically will appear when the times comes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButcherKnives/pseuds/ButcherKnives
Summary: You’re a human devil hunter with mysterious “superpowers.” Not a witch. Not an alchemist. Not a hybrid. No one knows where your lightning comes from; humans, after all, are merely that.But you know. And it’s a secret you’ve been keeping for nearly 15 years.
Relationships: Nero (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Nero (Devil May Cry)/You
Comments: 27
Kudos: 110





	1. Dragonborn, Dragonlive, Dragondie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my extraordinary wife:  
> Your support drives me, even though I have the license to drive.

**JUNE 1ST**

It's the same shit.

A gentleman with a smarmy grin and a bald head comes up to you and says, "I hear you hunt demons. Hear you got... superpowers." The way he speaks suggests he doesn't believe the rumors, but you're not in the business of caring. Your expression is nonplussed as he takes a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling perfect rings that hang in the stale evening air. "So, is it true?"

You sigh to soothe the line of frustration you feel creasing your brow. "Maybe," you answer. You're sizing him up while you fold your arms over your chest. It's a well-rehearsed move; impenetrability when faced with the scum that haunt this filthy city. Tipping your chin up, you fix him with a glare. "What's it to you?"

His grin seems to grow sharp in a gleam of aged enamel. "Because if it is, I have a job for ya." Your instinct tells you not to trust this man, and as he snubs out his cig on the brick wall beside your shoulder - too close, too damn close - you shove him back. "Hey now, no need to get testy. I could be a paying customer."

"This job," you say, and your tone leaves no room for games. "What is it?"

"Ah! First... there's a catch."

You roll your eyes and push past. "Then we're done here."

"Wait! Listen."

Every fiber of your being is telling you to keep walking. It's too dark, too late, too dirty to be in this alleyway with a middle-aged man you don't know. Yet despite yourself, you pause, glancing back to watch him straighten his shoulders. You're waiting, as he's asked, but challenging, just in case.

"I've put someone else on this job, too, but I want to see which one of you can topple this demon. Whoever does? Well, there's more where that's come from. And! I've got cash." He reaches into his pocket and you watch with stiff caution. As he's said, he withdraws out a thick wad of money that he fans toward you with a smirk. "I'll pay up front, and if you win, I'll double it. Then? Well, we'll keep in contact, and I'll keep supplying the jobs. Sound fair, superhero?"

You eye him and his cash, weighing your options. "And if I'm not interested in competition?"

"Then I guess my other hunter wins by default, huh?" He waves his hand dismissively and offers you the money, extending his arm. In the shadows of the streetlights, you wonder if he does have fangs. "Gonna hear me out?"

The temptation is high, no matter your hesitance. You've been low on clients and, truthfully, it looks like he's sporting a hefty sum in his meaty hand. You won't, however, agree blindly; he needs to realize precisely who is in charge. You make your decision to press.

"I have a few questions before I decide," you say, stepping closer as you slide your hands into the pockets of your leather jacket. "Who’s the other hunter you’ve hired?"

"Ah," he says, and his smirk seems to grow impossibly wide. "One of the guys down at Devil May Cry."

**\- x - x -**

**JUNE 4TH**

Where once there was a grassy field now stretches desolation. Cracked earth exhales the scent of char, and ash glimmers like falling snow through the asphyxiated air. You stand at the precipice of a cavern, its yawning mouth swallowing sunlight deep into its belly, and burrowed into this cavity is said to be a draconian demon that has been laying fiery waste to a town beyond the mountains. The villagers claim it's a wyvern.

You know it's a devil.

As the cool breeze catches your hair, you close your eyes. You reach into the corners of your mind and touch the rippling power that thrums out of sight. You envision the crackle of electricity and taste the burning wire. It sparks. Like the comfort of a weapon, it eases the anxiety wedged between your shoulder blades, and with the swell of confidence it offers, you poise yourself and listen to the chasm at your feet.

You're met with resounding silence; it seems you're the first to arrive.

Good, you think. You hate competition.

"Make this an easy win for me," you tell the jagged shadows. "Now, how do I lure this thing out where I can see it?"

Oh, but you know precisely how.

"Knock-knock," you call, slapping your hand on frigid stone. The wet noise seems to rise in volume as it carries into the recesses of the cave. "Any dragons home? Not off kidnapping princesses, are you? Stealing jewels? Eating sheep?" A beat passes and still, you hear nothing. Adrenaline pumps through your ears as you grow bolder. "Calling all ugly motherfuckers! The knight in shining armor is here to slay you! Come out!" For a moment, you think no one is home.

A low growl rumbles from within. It shakes the walls and rains loose dirt onto the floor. Beneath you, the ground shifts and with the thrill of your swelling nerves, you wonder the size of this beast. You backpedal several steps from the entrance to its _lair_ , minding your footing. Every muscle coils. Your heart beats in quiet percussion.

The beast emerges from obscurity with flames licking through its hollow eye sockets. Its head is exposed bone; a skull with dual rows of razor teeth and long, curled horns sprouting from its crown to its jaw. Three tongues spill past its maw, twisting, slithering around themselves as it drags its cumbersome plated body. Talons dig into the earth at the end of its spindly, gnarled fingers, and as it breeches into the sunlight, it flares it's great, leathery wings, bathing you in crimson luminance. Reared into full height, it stands at an impressive four meters, and as you expel an icy breath of anticipation, the demon releases a terrible cry. The noise blasts in three pitches, a sea of white noise and radio frequency.

You recoil.

"Human," it says as it drops to its feet with a ground-quaking thud. "You _cannot_ slay me, but you _can_ be eaten."

You clench your fists and feel the delicious zap of lightning running through your veins. It reaches your fingertips and you push the energy, opening your palms wide. Purple circuits in a full halo with a burst of light. "Fought bigger assholes than you before," you say through gritted teeth, wearing arrogance like a well-earned trophy. "But catch me if you can."

**_Fire_.**

The heat is immediate. Immense. The sound of it roaring to life at your feet has you backflipping for distance. When you land on your boots, you slam your hands together with a clap of thunder. Lightning cracks overhead and you reach for it, wrapping your mind around its power. You can feel the static numbing your tongue. With an outward strike of your hand, you rip the electricity from the sky and send it splintering toward dragon. The beast howls and shudders, slamming its foot in protest.

"That all you got?" you taunt, brushing invisible dirt from your shoulder.

Rage swells as the demon throws its skull back, inhaling a great breath that exhales an explosion of flames. You barely have time to roll when you drop to the ground, and with your hands above your crown, you unleash kinetic energy as a phosphorescent shield. You're sweating under the rising temperature. You can't hear over the rush of your pulse.

Until a new voice reaches your ears in a shout of frustration.

"The hell is all this?"

You attempt to spare a glance but only catch a flash of blue before you're forced to parry a tempest of whirlwind fire. You lean into it, forcing your shield to drive you forward. Liquid fire waterfalls around you in a cascade of burning reds. The heat suffocates your oxygen but you stand your ground, wincing, gasping for breath against the searing burn in your lungs.

The whir of an engine revving is nearly lost over the blazing roar passing your ears. "Hey! You stealin' my fight?"

Memory strikes you: the competition. Devil May Cry. This man must be your " _rival_ ".

You grit your teeth. " _Your_ fight?" you call back, taking advantage of the lull between the beast's attacks. "First come, first serve!" You reach back and force energy through your hands, ripping through the air until violet sparks glitter between your palms. In your periphery, you see him; a man with white hair bracing an impossibly colossal blade in his hand. The steel glows red-hot; it's an intimidating beacon of incandescent heat not unlike a branding iron.

"Didn't realize this show was sold out!"

The demon's barbed tail sweeps at them. Beside you, the hunter launches into a preposterous vertical vault six feet in the air. You only have a second to gawk before you flip out of the way.

"Solo performance, my dude!" you shout as you regather that energy between your hands. It stretches and pulls into the shape of a live-wire whip, and with a flick of your wrist, you crack a vein of lightning overhead. If the other hunter hears you, he doesn't respond. You catch sight of him rushing the demon, dodging the dragon's claws to leap atop its thorny back. He moves with grace, nimble, agile in a way you struggle to fathom, and from his new perch, you can witness the way he drives his blade between the beast's wings. It shrieks. He unleashes a series of devastating slashes one, after another, after another, spinning his body, twisting with an explosion from his sword.

No, you think, you're not going to lose this! You have to come out the victor because you _need_ this money. You lock your jaw and draw the barely contained lightning in a sharp arc, slamming electricity into the demon's face. The skull splinters where the weapon lands. The sound is a sickening crunch that echoes through the empty field and fills the space of the cavern at its back. With an inhuman roar, the demon bucks the hunter off and takes to the air with a pump of its incredible wings. The hunter scrambles to find his footing and you flick your attention back to the behemoth. It opens its mouth and builds a sphere of flame that grows, and grows, and -

You react on instinct. "Shit!" You lunge forward to close the distance and summon your translucent shield. Embers chase and lick your heels. Your arms are drawn protectively over your face when you dive in front of the reckless devil hunter, taking a hit that slides you back despite the way you push your heels into the dirt. You press your power outward against the force of the fire plummeting into your mind's eye, and with a snarl of your own, you push back. Your world is bathed in blazing orange.

The other hunter stays behind you, and although you cannot see him, you can feel his eyes boring into your head.

With a shout, you drive energy forward. It thrusts out and travels to the dragon's parted fangs until the fire is smothered into coiling black smoke. You reach toward your chest and withdraw an invisible current that blasts with momentum and strikes the beast. It seizes, convulsing, and falls from the air.

It hits the barren ground with a clatter of limbs.

You're panting, depleted, exhausted, trying to breathe around the blackened air, and as you turn to face the demon hunter, his - attractive - face scrunched in befuddlement, you smirk and let your shoulders roll down. He's much younger than you'd initially thought, with a strong, square jaw and a dimple in his chin. Through the gasps of air, you manage a spirited, "Hey, handsome."

His eyes widen and for a moment, you think perhaps you've flustered him, but his eyes look somewhere above your shoulder.

There's a shadow looming over both of you.

"Get down!" he shouts, and you drop without hesitation. He raises a double barreled revolver and fires where your head had been.

You gasp. Behind you, you watch as the demon collapses in a final heap. The licking flames in its eye sockets extinguish. A river of hairline fractures split the demon's skull. The bone crumbles to dust and spills into the dirt. Ash takes flight into the gentle Spring wind.

"Do you always gloat before it's over?" your would-be rival is saying, voice husky and mocking, his lips pulled into flat amusement while he lowers his gun. His movements are animated, and there's a bounce in his step; his energy is alluring.

"Only when I know I've won," you say as you draw back into a full stand. He gives you a look of incredulity and you think, despite yourself, that it looks quite beautiful on him. "And let the record show that I **did** win."

"Right," and he sounds sarcastic while he makes a show of rolling his eyes at you with a slow swing of his head. "Because you definitely wouldn't've been lizard food if I hadn't killed it."

You scoff at his brass. "Hey, that dragon was gonna fry you extra crispy! You're lucky I was here."

His tongue rolls over his lips as he hides a lopsided smile, turning away from you with a snort. "Sure, whatever."

There's an easiness to your banter; familiar, somehow. There's no heat in your words despite the perspiration on your brows; despite the dying fire choking on the parched ground or the residual adrenaline making you feel impossibly matchless. His lip is curled down to hide his mirth and although his head is tipped away from you, you don't miss the gleam in his pacific eyes. With a smile of your own, you shake your hands out to rid yourself of the lingering voltage. Sparks coil in sudden bursts and expel outward. The buzz beneath your skin dissipates.

"So," you're saying as you sidle up closer to your battle companion.

"So," he repeats, glancing at you with a glimmer of interest. You think you see appreciation in his appraisal, as if he finds you charismatic, yet before you can be sure, he's turning away, leaving the disintegrating demon at his back. "Who actually wins?"

Once again, you're reminded of the competition and, with a surge of excitement, the reward. You purse your lips and follow. "We can have what's-his-face decide, can't we?"

The hunter snorts. "What's-his-face?" he looks at you with a quirk of his brow and you know at once he's teasing. "You forget Ernie's name already?"

"Too old for Sesame Street," you say before you can stop yourself and when he laughs his surprise, you feel your heart glow. What a lovely sound, you think in your delight. "What's your name? Please don't tell me it's Bert."

"Name's Nero," he answers, holstering his gun on his hip. "Which must make you Elmo?"

It's your turn to laugh. "Only when I'm on the run." He smirks, shaking his head, and satisfied by his response, you introduce yourself without fanfare. "Pleasure, Nero. You work for Devil May Cry, right?"

Nero nods and you observe the way his eyes drift toward you, clear and bright blue in the afternoon sun. He's quite tall. Standing beside him, you feel eclipsed by his build, and you can't help but notice how strong he is. His shoulders are broad, his arms are thick, and you can see the clear definition of his chest through his thin shirt. You imagine, in idle, that his strength comes from hauling around that enormous engine blade. You've never seen a weapon quite like it, but you know its weight must be substantial.

"Funny how you remember the name of the shop, but not the name of the dude who hired you," Nero says. He's _definitely_ laughing at you now.

You scrunch your nose in mock offense. "Yeah, maybe because I've heard of Devil May Cry before." You slide your hands in your pockets and continue by Nero's side. His strides are long, but you find if you move a bit quicker, you can keep his pace. "But does it bother you that Ernie hired both of us? I don't understand why."

Nero, for his part, shrugs his shoulders. "Nah. And hell if I know. I just needed the cash."

You nod your understanding. "Yeah, me too. I haven't had a lot of work lately. Part of me thinks that's a good thing, you know? Because that must mean demonic activity is low - which is obviously a good thing - but it's been a struggle to pay the bills." With a half-hearted smile, you wave your hand in front of yourself dismissively. You're not sure why you're telling him this, but the conversation seems casual enough. "Had to take on an extra part time job. I'd rather be doing this, though."

You almost don't notice the sound of a vehicle approaching, but you do see the way that Nero tips his chin. You can observe the gears grinding to life in his head before he's exhaling a thoughtful sigh. "Well... guess we'll have to see what ol' _what's-his-face_ has to say," Nero says as he turns to give you a teasing smirk.

"Big Bird?" you ask.

"Grover," he says with a resolute nod.

The laughter you share stretches warm sunlight to the furthest reaches of your heart, deep within the sinew and bone until you feel the radiance wrap around you. In that moment, you wonder if you'll ever see Nero again, and when this thought strikes you, you make a quick decision. You fish through your pockets and withdraw a matte black business card, and although it's bent and its edges are frayed, you offer it to Nero. "Here," you say, watching him take it from between your fingers. "In case you ever wanna get in touch."

His eyes rove the paper. Your name and business phone number are listed, and although it's detailed with gold filigree, there is no other information. No tagline, no address; nothing more than necessary. When Nero lifts his gaze back to you, he wears a curious expression and you're not sure you can interpret it to its fullest. A smile then slips across his face, feather-soft, quiet, and it's a look you return. With a bashful tilt of his head, he glances away. "Alright. Got it, thanks."

For a sarcastic, loud-mouthed devil hunter, Nero is unexpectedly charming.

Before you're able to respond, the sound of tires screeching pulls your attention. An RV comes to a full stop close enough to you that you feel goosebumps prick your flesh. It kicks up a cloud of dust and both you and Nero cough. While you're swatting uselessly to clear yourself some breathable oxygen, your lungs already abused, Nero growls and steps forward to smack the grill. The strike exerts enough force to cause the girl in the driver's seat to jerk. The whole van rattles and groans.

"C'mon! For fuck's sake, Nico! Can you _not_ almost hit me for once in your goddamn life?"

"Oh, you big baby! You're fiiine!" Nico says, poking her head out of the window as she shoves her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her fluffy brown hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, sitting just shy of her shoulders, and you think, distantly, that she's quite pretty. You notice she's only sparing you a brief look before she's tapping on her horn in short, quick blasts. Impatient. Purposely frustrating Nero, it seems. "Now get in! We got more work to do!"

Nero clicks his tongue and shoots her a glare that could surely slice that dragon clean in half. You turn to watch him in time to catch him facing you once again, yet this time he seems apologetic as he navigates his simmering anger. "Guess that's my cue." He looks like he's considering something, brows furrowed in thought, then he asks, without a hint of his previous aggression, "You need a ride anywhere?"

Regretfully, you don't. You've driven here in your old compact parked just beyond a thicket of trees. You try to tell him this, but you're interrupted by another series of beeping.

"Hurry! Up!"

"Nico, I swear to fucking god -"

"It's okay!" you cut in, careful not to upset the situation further. When Nero turns his eyes on you, still wound tight, you witness the daggers he'd been shooting Nico firsthand. A twinge of anxiety causes you to fumble. "My car is nearby, so I'm okay. I appreciate the offer, though." Besides, you think, maybe it's for the best that you don't get between whatever _this_ is.

Your farewells are quick. Nero is placing your business card in his pocket as you smile. "Don't forget to call sometime."

And he smiles back at you, a short twist of his lips, and nods. "See ya around."

"Yeah," you answer. "See ya around."

And just this once, you hope luck will be on your side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos & comments are always appreciated and help bolster my **motivation**.
> 
> Please feel free to reach out to me on my tumblr @[butcherknives](http://butcherknives.tumblr.com) anytime.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Ernesto, CPA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Mimi:  
> While you cried and scratched my chair every time I sat down to write this chapter, I know you ship them, too.

**JUNE 5TH**

You're boiling a pot of water in your mediocre apartment when your work cellphone vibrates on the laminated plastic countertop. It's someone in your contacts, someone you've named "Ernie" with a title beneath that reads " _not from sesame street_ 😎". A smile curves the corners of your lips at the memory as you place the box of instant macaroni and cheese down. The dried noodles rattle against the cardboard.

You answer the phone the way that you always do, with a greeting and your name.

"Hello, superhero." Ernie's voice has a fresh scratch of burning cigarette and you can hear him puff around crackled smoke. "Good time to talk?"

You hum as you begin to pour your noodles out, setting a timer on the stove with a series of beeps. "Calling about that dragon?"

There's a laugh on the other line. "How'd you guess?" - and although he can't see you, you roll your eyes - "Yeah, I am. Just got off the phone with my other contact. He told me what happened."

"Oh, he did?" Your brows furrow. "And?"

"And congrats, girlie. You're the lucky winner. Looks like you get the contract _and_ the cash prize."

Your lips part on an exhale as you stare at the wall in confusion, wracking your brain as quickly as you can. "Huh? But I thought -" yet your voice fades as you recall the rules of this endeavor. Whoever could topple the demon, right? Hadn't you and Nero done that _together_? You're quick to change tactics. "What did he tell you, exactly?"

"Oh, y'know," except that you don't. "He said the show was kick-ass and your electro magic is dope as shit. He also said when he got there, you were basically done wiping the floor with it - said he was too late to the party."

Why would he have lied?

Your silence lingers for too long, prompting Ernie to inquire, "Why?" Ashen embers and another pull of smoke fill the speaker. "S'that not what happened?"

"Not exactly," you murmur, and for the life of you, you can't understand why Nero would give you all of the credit. "I did get there first, but he and I ended up taking it out together. He was a huge help. I think it would've taken me twice as long on my own."

"Interesting..."

 _Interesting_ isn't the word you would choose, but you hold your tongue as you give your pot of elbows a stir.

"Well then, I'll have to reconsider how I'll divvy up the prize. Either way, you were an incredible help to the folks that live out there. Women and children wept tears of joy." You click your tongue and he snorts a scrape of not-really-laughter over the roof of his mouth. "I'll call ya back after I work out the details, alright? Hang tight."

Ernie doesn't give you a chance to respond. The phone is silent; his call drops. You scoff and place your phone back down, staring into the bubbling water as your mind reels with this information. You can't make sense of it; there's no reason for Nero to write himself out... unless he doesn't want the contract? But you distinctly remember him saying that he needed the money, so then _why_?

Your timer beeps, and as you drain your pasta, you think only of that devilish smirk.

You sigh.

**\- x - x -**

**JUNE 9TH**

It's the setup to a joke, you're sure.

Nero strolls in ten minutes late with a paper cup of hot coffee clutched in his hand.

(Cue canned laughter.)

You've only met him once, but he's left enough of an impression that somehow, this doesn't surprise you. Your eyes slide across the room to raise a brow at him as he sighs out an apology to Ernie, who quite frankly looks more exhausted than Nero does at seven in the morning, but Ernie only shrugs. Nero regards you with an awkward half-wave and you smile, raising your hand in return. He's wearing that same blue leather duster he'd been wearing the other day despite the summer heat, with thick soled boots and a black v-neck, and you think to yourself that he's just as handsome as your memory serves. You force yourself not to stare for too long, instead turning to Ernie beneath the fluorescent lighting.

Ernie has an office. It's not what you would have expected for a man of his _caliber_ , but when he'd texted you an address, of course you'd thrown it into a search engine to make sure he wasn't luring you anywhere unsavory. The results had pulled a six story building housing several dental practices, a handful of psychologists, and "Ernesto, CPA."

He looks strange in a suit and tie, but life is funny that way, you decide.

You're seated in front of his opulent desk and Nero collapses heavily in the chair beside you, grunting on impact.

"Sorry," he murmurs again, although this time he's looking at you. "I should'a texted." He lifts his coffee with a demonstrative tip. "I could've got ya something."

You smile at his thoughtfulness, belated though it may be. "No, that's okay. Thank you, though." Except a thought occurs to you while Ernie flips through a drawer in his desk, and with Nero's eyes still on you, you decide to take your shot. "I mean, you still should've texted, though. I was hoping you would." It's bold and your heart is hammering, but his gaze burns like the sun and you can't help yourself; you _want_ to align his blurred edges.

When your words penetrate his exhaustion, Nero's lips curl on a crooked smirk yet he casts his eyes elsewhere. _Cute_. "Sorry," he says again. "I wanted to..."

__"Alright," Ernie says. "Enough flirting, you two. I wanna go over some things with you."_ _

__You stifle a chuckle behind your hand and Nero sinks in his seat, cupping both of his hands around his warm drink._ _

__"So, after some deliberating, I've decided you _both_ win. This means you split additional earnings and, if you're up for it, I'll give you both a contract with me."_ _

__Your brows furrow. "Huh?"_ _

__Ernie merely grins a gleam of pearled enamel as he presents two manila folders with flourish, then with equal theatrics, he slaps one in front of both of you. "Hear me out?" Neither of you object, so he continues with his arms outstretched. "The fact that you worked so well together makes me think you could be a duo. A pair of demon hunters. You were efficient, effective, and _fast_. There was minimal damage at the scene and none of the locals even saw either of you, which made cleanup quick and easy." He holds up his index finger and his grin stretches impossibly wider. "Here you have the contracts to look over, as well as the checks for the additional payment, as promised."_ _

__"I'm already employed," Nero says. "Kinda got my own gig?"_ _

__"Yeah, and I don't really do contracts," you add with breathless haste._ _

__"Sure, sure." Ernie waves a dismissive hand before he gestures back to the packets. "This wouldn't be permanent employment, and you'll find in Section 3, I've added a clause that states either party may terminate the agreement at any point, for any reason. You're not tethered." He levels you both with a stare that you're unable to decipher. "Benefits for you both would be that I provide the jobs for a nominal fee and handle the finances. I'd run everything by you before, during, and after each job, then cover the recon and aftercare. All you two have to do is show up and kill the monsters. Easy, right?"_ _

__"Too easy," Nero grumbles with a scoff. As he takes a sip of his coffee, he picks up his folder to withdraw the contract and flips through it - he's too quick to actually be _reading_ the document, but you assume that isn't what he's assessing. "This is a ton of text for what you just explained, man."_ _

__He's right, you think as you glance over his shoulder. There has to be at least ten pages, although you catch a lot of spaces that are meant to be filled. Is that _bank information_? Direct deposit? "Seriously?" you ask aloud._ _

__"Look," Ernie starts. "You can take time to read through everything. It's a lot of legal jargon, but seriously, this is just to cover all our asses. I'd be a pretty piss poor businessman if I didn't at least make sure we can't screw each other over." You both stare at him with varied degrees of doubt and he shakes his head. "I don't need answers today but how about by the end of the week? Talk it over, then tell me what you think. Cool?"_ _

__Folders in hand, you and Nero get up to leave not two minutes later. You can't help but notice how he lingers by the door to wait for you, his squinted glare passing over your shoulder toward Ernie with simmering appraisal. It isn't until you're out of the door that Nero too exits, shutting it behind you both with a gentle click._ _

__You stand there side by side in complete...  
...and utter...  
...silence. 

__Your heart begins to hammer in your ears as you bite down on an uncomfortable smile while Nero seems to find interest in the waxy flooring._ _

__"Sooo," you drawl, reaching out to nudge his arm. "What do you make of all this?"_ _

__For a moment, you think he isn't going to answer. His body is stiff and he's working his jaw, but then he's beginning to walk down the hallway while he gestures for you to follow. "Ah, honestly?" he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't trust the guy."_ _

__"Me neither." You purse your lips. "We should definitely give these contracts a good read. If we go for it, I think we should connect that direct deposit to burner bank accounts." He's sighing beneath his breath, a long exhale through his nose, so you decide to lighten the mood. "You _can_ read, right?" A teasing grin tugs at your lips when he whips around to face you, his expression affronted before he visibly registers your joke. "I guess you would've learned from kid's shows."_ _

__"Weren't _you_ the one who said you go by Elmo?"_ _

__Oh, so he remembers? You wonder what sort of impression you've made as you raise your hand to smother a giggle. "Okay, _anyway_ ," you say and you notice he's smiling, even angled away. Those impossibly blue eyes slide to glance at you while you press the down arrow between the pair of elevators. "Can I ask you something?"_ _

__"I get the feeling you'd ask even if I said no."_ _

__"Funny," but your sarcasm is tinged with mirth. "I wanted to know why you lied to Ernie."_ _

__The elevator slides open with a pleasant ding._ _

__"Lied?"_ _

__You both step in, elbows brushing. You can see your stretched reflections in the steel doors._ _

__"Yeah," you say, "about how we took that demon down."_ _

__There's a new stretch of silence, although this one is pensive, weighted with thoughts you cannot read. Nero is staring up at the mirrored ceiling and you steal a glance at him, tracing over his jawline with your gaze, and in that moment, you forget your proximity. When he turns to look at you with a silvery brow arched, you feel your cheeks burn, but he doesn't comment even as you focus on your folder. Instead he studies you, piecing together what you imagine will be a fresh lie; what isn't he saying?_ _

__"I don't know," comes his answer as the elevator releases the two of you into the lobby. "I wasn't interested in any of this."_ _

__You don't believe him - you _can't_ believe him, but you decide it isn't worth pressing. "Alright," is what you choose, and when you pass the front desk, you know your time is running out. "Well, do you still have my business card?" He holds the front door open for you and you murmur your quiet gratitude._ _

__"I put your number in my phone," he tells you in earnest. Your heart catches in your throat._ _

__Beneath the warm summer sun, you watch Nero rifle through his pocket for his cellphone. It's old, you note, and the screen is cracked, and for the second time, you're somehow unsurprised. This warms you in a way you don't think you'd ever be able to explain. It's then that he's tap-tap-tapping his screen until your phone buzzes in your pocket, and when you check the notifications, you see you've received a waving emoji from a number you haven't yet inputted._ _

__You grin to yourself._ _

__"I'll text you later," he says. "Got a lotta shit to go through in this mountain of paperwork."_ _

__Your eyes meet, static running beneath your skin. What is it about him that draws you in? You're trying not to seem too eager while you text him back a smile, but you can't help yourself when he glances to see what you've messaged. He gives the emoji a thumbs up in front of you, eyebrows quirked and lips upturned, playful and effortless._ _

__"Okay," you say. "Talk to you then, Nero."_ _

__And as you part ways, you wonder if you should have invited him somewhere. You curse yourself for the missed opportunity while you hug the folder to your chest._ _

__**\- x - x -**__

__**JUNE 5TH** _ _

_  
_Nero clicks out of the call and Nico seethes with pinched incredulity. He's guilty, but he pretends he has the right to be irritated by her loud humming and foot tapping while she crosses her arms over her chest. He closes his eyes to avoid her burning stare._   
_

"You know what you are?"

__"What?" he snaps._ _

__"A big fat liar, that's what you are!"_ _

__He rolls his eyes. "Seriously? Who cares!"_ _

__"I do! That was extra cash, you numskull!" She gives an exaggerated huff as she throws up her hands. "Why'd you lie to that Ernie dude, anyway? You were just as good as miss electric-hands with that colossal demon-dragon-thing!"_ _

__Nero kicks his feet up on the dashboard as he leans back in the passenger seat, hands cupped behind his head. He can't see her behind him, but he imagines he knows the look she must have fixed on the headrest. "She said she's gotta get a part-time job to pay for shit, Nico. She needs this job way more than we do." He prepares himself for the incoming storm._ _

__"What!? Did she turn your stupid brain to mush?" He groans but Nico continues. "Nero, what the hell, man? We got bills to pay, too! _Ugh_ , I can't believe you sometimes. You meet one cute little chick who bats her big eyes at you and you're giving away money like it's nothing. Maybe I should start handling the finances 'round here."_ _

__Nero cracks his eyes open just enough to give them an exhausted roll. "C'mon, get your head outta your ass. There'll be other jobs. Let her have this one."_ _

__"Romeo, if you cost us food, I'm personally sticking my _foot_ up your ass."_ _

__He shakes his head and tunes her out. "Whatever."_ _

__**\- x - x -**__

__**JUNE 9TH** _ _

Your phone buzzes.

 **Nero:**  
_u have some fluff on the back of ur shirt_

__There on the cracked sidewalk only three blocks from Ernie's office, passersby weaving figure eights around you, you laugh aloud. "Oh my god."_ _

**You:**  
_thanks for the belated head's up._ 😝 

**Nero:**  
_anytime_ 👍 

__And what a pleasant, refreshing feeling this capacious crush is, bursting to life deep within you. It's the thread of comfort knitted between each key of your ribcage, an ember lit against your shadows, and it's the rush of vibrating adrenaline as you close your phone._ _

You truly, deeply like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay with this chapter. I hope it makes you feel things.
> 
> Kudos & comments are always appreciated and help bolster my **motivation**.
> 
> Please feel free to reach out to me on my Tumblr @[butcherknives](http://butcherknives.tumblr.com) anytime. I write headcanons and fill requests there.
> 
> Next chapter, we'll explore ridiculous, unnecessary pining between two goofballs and get a teeny taste of the overarching plot before this bad boy - the plot, not me - erupts.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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